Seeing Red
by Doublemint Mystique
Summary: Calliopoea Malfoy is to her family as Harry is to the Dursley's. So what will they think when she gets sorted into Gryffindor and develops a crush on our favorite redhead?
1. Vicious Knives

Seeing Red  
  
Author: Doublemint Mystique  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Summary: Draco's kid sister gets sorted into Gryffindor and develops a crush on our favorite Weasley.  
  
Pairing: none as of yet  
  
Comments/Feedback/ETC: celticrockstar@bolt.com  
  
Disclaimer: I own the story and...that's it. J.K. Rowling owns everything else.  
Vicious Knives  
  
"Well, would you fancy this?" Lucius Malfoy said as he sat down at the spacious table in front of him. He crossed his legs, and blew a wispy piece of soft blonde hair out of his eyes.  
  
"Hmm?" Narcissa, his wife looked up from her swirling black coffee. Two sugars. No cream. She glanced across the table to her son Draco, who was taking a bite of his French toast. The bars of light that shone through the dining room window bounced off his slicked hair, and Narcissa had to shield her eyes for a moment.  
  
"Mad-Eye Moody is back in commission after spending ten months in his magical trunk. Isn't that interesting..." Lucius faded out, and turned the page of yesterday's Daily Prophet to finish perusing the story.  
  
The three laughed in unison, and from the outside window, anyone looking in would see a happy (if slightly peculiar) family having a pleasant time. That is, until their eyes scanned to the other side of the rectangular table.  
  
Sitting in a huff in her seat, a small girl no older than ten rolled her eyes at the fanatically cackling in front of her. Muttering under her breath, Calliopoea Malfoy shook her head in disbelief. She felt like screaming at the three people facing her. Or at least shoving something very sharp and very painful into the back of their banana yellow scalps.  
  
As she stood up from the table, thoroughly disgusted with the rest of her family, the scuffling of her chair on the linoleum floor snapped the Malfoys out of their bizarre moment of maniacal behavior.  
  
"Callie, do you plan on going somewhere?" Lucius asked his daughter, sighing with disappointment. His high hopes for Calliopoea were quickly distinguished when she stated that her lifelong dream was to meet Harry Potter. Yes, she'd been six at the time, and a might bit sloshed from the butterbeer she'd drank, but the mention of Harry's name in the Malfoy house was never received well.  
  
"Yes, I plan on going to my room to ponder why I am a spoon in a drawer full of vicious knives," she said curtly.  
  
"Really? Funny, I didn't hear you mention that you wanted to excuse yourself. Perhaps I missed it? Narcissa, dear, did you hear Callie request permission to leave the room?"  
  
"No, I heard nothing of the sort," she replied.   
  
"Draco, your young ears can pick up softer sounds. I'm sure you heard your sister say 'may I please be excused?'" Lucius turned to his son as he spoke.  
  
"No, Father, she's just been sitting there...doing absolutely nothing," Draco said with the pleasure of getting his moody sister into trouble.  
  
"I see. Well, Callie, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt for this one," Lucius smiled wanly.  
  
"Thank you, Father," she began to move towards the double doors that led to the hallway.  
  
"Hold on just a second".  
  
She spun around, wondering about what she'd done wrong this time. She was about to respond with an annoyed "what?", but thought better of it, and instead answered "Yes?"  
  
"Procedure in this household is not only to ask permission to leave the room, but to receive permission as well. Am I correct in this statement?"  
  
"Yes, but Draco never has to ask--" she started, but was soon interrupted.  
  
"Excuse me, did I ask you to comment on your brother's behavior? Draco is an intelligent young man, who earns excellent marks at Hogwarts and is a seeker for his house. You, on the other hand," Lucius continued, sneering at his rejected spawn, "have yet to give your mother and I any reason to feel a sense of pride for you. And you continue to exude an air of disrespect."  
  
"May I please be excused, Father?" she said quietly, on the verge of breaking down in that very spot and crying until she could cry no more.  
  
"No, Calliepoea, you will return to your seat and finish eating the remainder of your breakfast. And, if possible, keep that scowl off your face. It isn't flattering."  
  
"But--"  
  
"I'm going to have to ask that you refrain from speaking," Lucius broke in once again. "Your tone of voice does not sit well with me."  
  
And so, with a whimper, Callie sat down at the farthest end of the table, separating herself as much as possible from the three lunatics she was forced to call "family". The four of them sat in silence for a few moments, three against one.  
  
"Some birthday," Callie sighed to herself. For the past three hundred and sixty four days, she'd hoped and prayed that being eleven would be different then being ten. Her parents would treat her as something more than an unwanted holiday gift that must be kept out of obligation. However, it was now August 7, and although she had officially turned 11 a few hours ago, she was still a cast out old sock to her parents in every way that mattered.  
A minute or two later, a swarm of owls were seen flying towards the Malfoy residence. Some of the less intelligent ones continued to fly straight into the clear glass panes of the window, while the veteran flyers patiently waited outside for Narcissa to unlatch it.  
  
Crossing her fingers so tightly the tips of her knuckles turned a ghastly shade of unnatural white, Callie said a silent prayer to anyone who was listening. "Please let it be here," she said to herself, in regard to a certain piece of parchment she hoped to receive.  
  
"Well, what have we here?" Lucius was dangling a letter addressed to Calliopoea Malfoy between his pale fingers, taunting her by motioning to promptly rip the envelope to shreds. The famous Hogwarts symbol was emblazoned onto the parchment for all to see.  
  
"May I please have my letter?" she asked patiently and evenly.  
  
"No, I think I will open this letter myself. Shall I rip it open right away or wait a bit?"  
  
Lucius moved towards a drawer near the sink, and pulled out the dragon tooth he used as a letter opener. Ever so slowly, he sliced centimeter by centimeter through the paper-thin envelope. Sitting with her hands now gripping the edge of the table, Callie feared that if her fingers left the smooth surface, they might find their way around someone's throat.  
  
After a large amount of eternity had passed, the contents of the letter were finally revealed to the eagerly waiting persons. The top sheet of a multipage document was printed with the signature "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry" letterhead, and was addressed to "Miss Malfoy".  
  
"Father, may I please have my letter?" she repeated once more, with a slight hint of insistence and desperation in her voice.  
  
"I think I'll hold on to it. I'm not sure I can trust you to read all the polysyllable words correctly. Now, let me see..." he paused for a moment, ignoring the sounds of his daughter huffing in the background. "Dear Miss Malfoy," he began.  
  
The letter went on to state that Callie had been accepted at Hogwarts, and that she must reply to the correspondence no later than August 15. Attached was a list of the supplies and books she would need for her first year.  
  
"Well, congratulations, Callie," Lucius said. Like an allergy-prone man who'd just tried to sniff a fresh spring daffodil, he struggled to get the compliment out of his mouth. Giving compliments to his enemies (or his daughter) was never his forte, but the hint of a stammer he released went unnoticed.  
  
Callie stood there, glued to the dab of waxed flooring she was teetering on. Damned be the words "parental consent", she thought. They couldn't possibly tell her she couldn't go, could they?   
  
"Callie, would you please leave the room for a few minutes? Your mother and I have to discuss this."  
  
Hoping that "discuss" really meant "we like to watch you sweat it out a bit", she spun around on one heel and headed towards the door for the second time that morning. She got as far as opening one of the doors and stepping over the threshold before she stopped.  
  
"Shouldn't Draco leave the room too? I mean, it really isn't any of his concern whether I--" she spoke, but Lucius interjected, as he likes to do.  
  
"Draco can remain in the room. At 15, he is responsible enough to know when he can speak and when it is best to keep his mouth shut." At this point, Lucius gave Draco a stern look, telling him without words that his invitation to remain in the room was pending. With the simplest out of place comment he would be schlepped into the hallway as well. Draco understood the message well, judging from the sudden change in his facial expression from one of elation to an image of annoyance.  
  
"Are you kidding me?" she muttered just loud enough for everyone else to hear.  
  
"Pardon?" Narcissa asked, opening her pinched mouth.  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Good," her mother responded, her pasty smile curling into an abnormally curved line.  
  
Defeated, Callie exited the room alone, left to her imagination. In her cramped room, her vision blurred between reality and images of the freedom she was so close to grasping. Between shots of her armoire and mirror, she saw the Hogwarts Express and the Great Hall. In all actuality, she'd seen neither the Hogwarts Express nor the Great Hall, as her parents left her home when they traveled to Kings Cross. However, she'd heard enough of her brother's gloating to form pictures of elegance and fantasy in her head.  
  
After what seemed like an entire summer had passed, she heard yelling from the floor below. "Callie! Callie!" both her parents yelled up to her, and she felt the vibrations of brooms being forcefully pounded into the ceiling below.   
  
"Heaven forbid you actually walk up those stairs and knock on my door," she murmured as she approached the dining room doors with a sense of foreboding. What if they said no?  
  
"Calliopoea, we've come to a decision regarding your future schooling," her father began, as she stood there with baited breath and clammy palms. "We've decided that..." he stopped, just for effect, and she felt like bellowing "enough already!".  
  
Draco then proceeded to double over fall into a fit of coughs, disrupting the already tense situation. Flocking to their perfect son to make sure he was still alive and still perfect, Narcissa and Lucius all but forgot about the second child standing in said dining room. Giving Callie a vicious grin, Draco hacked away for a full five minutes. Stopping abruptly, he stood up as though nothing had happened, and Lucius returned to his announcement.  
  
"We've decided to let you attend Hogwarts," he said, and Callie felt her entire body go numb from every hair follicle to the tip of her littlest toe. She opened her mouth, but the frozen sensation she felt ran clear through to her voice box, and out came not even a whisper.  
  
"That's it? Not a stitch of gratitude?" Narcissa asked, waiting for a reply.  
  
"I half expected you to throw yourself down and kiss our feet, what with the riot you put on before. And yet, not so much as a 'Thank You' has come out of your mouth," Lucius said sternly. "I haven't sent Cerberus with the response to Hogwarts yet, Callie. I can still rip this reply into shreds, so I suggest you show some form of appreciation, you little..."  
  
The large Eurasian Eagle Owl in the corner of the room began to screech and flap his wings incessantly with the mention of his name. The four Malfoys blanched at the sound, and Draco hastily covered Cerberus' cage with a small black cloak.  
  
"Thank you, Draco," Narcissa said pointedly, giving her daughter a bitter look.  
  
Knowing that she'd better speak up, Callie recovered her speech. "Mother, Father, thank you very much. I'll do my best to...live up to your expectations," she finished weakly, for lack of better words.  
  
"Hmmph," Lucius grunted, amused. "We shall see, Callie. We shall see." 


	2. Ten Months, Forever

Seeing Red  
  
Author: Doublemint Mystique  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Summary: Calliopoea Malfoy is to her family as Harry is to the Dursleys. So what will they think when she is sorted into Gryffindor and develops a crush on Ron?  
  
Pairing: none as of yet  
  
Comments/Feedback/ETC: celticrockstar@bolt.com  
  
Disclaimer: I own the story and...that's it. J.K. Rowling owns everything else.  
Ten Months, Forever  
  
"Callie, please, stop dragging that along the ground! And shut that damn owl up!" Lucius demanded. The scraping noise her trunk was making, paired with the continuous screeching of a small pygmy owl, made for quite a loud entourage.   
  
Juggling her enormous trunk and the owl cage, Callie found it impossible to elevate her luggage so that the racket would cease to irritate her father. Instead, she drove it into the paved walkway in front of Kings Cross station so that the grating only became louder.  
  
Glaring at his daughter, Lucius said, "You know, I can take you out of that school faster than you can say 'Avada Kedavra'."  
  
Flinching at the mention of the Unforgivable Curse, Callie spoke before her mind processed the words and associated them with consequences. "I'm sure it would look perfectly normal for the daughter of one of Hogwarts prime supporters to be taken out of school for no reason," she said sarcastically. "However, I'm sure you could pay enough people to look the other way, right?"   
  
Stunned at her daughter's sudden audacity, Narcissa snapped, "Calliopoea Malfoy, keep that foul mouth shut! I want not a word out of you until after you've boarded the train."  
  
Callie grunted, knowing full well that the nanosecond she stepped onto the Hogwarts Express, she'd be without parents for ten full months. "No complaints here," she said, shutting up promptly.  
  
Her owl, on the other hand, must have misunderstood Lucius' kind request to seal the lips and throw away the key. The shrieking increased in volume, much to the chagrin of the entire Malfoy clan.  
  
"Please, Grover, be quiet!" Callie hissed, forgetting her orders to remain silent as well. "Just for a few minutes. Do it for me, please, Grover?"  
  
"Callie! Are you deaf or are you just dumb? Did you simply select not to tune out your mother, who specifically said not to talk? You just opened your ungrateful mouth, did you not?"  
  
"I was telling Grover to--"  
  
"Look at me, Calliopoea. Does it look like I care what you were telling that horrible owl of yours?" Lucius' face was one of pure and complete vexation.  
  
"What kind of name is Grover anyway?" Draco asked with disgust. His owl, Coltin, would never act so out of place where Muggles crawl through every corner and open slice of space.  
  
"A stupid one," Lucius said, acting especially nasty towards his daughter today. In his mind, it was impossible to induce ten months worth of torture in a relatively short time, but he would try his best.   
  
"It is not!" she retorted.   
  
Lucius opened his eyes preternaturally wide, and made a grab for his wand. Muggles, scmuggles, his daughter had disobeyed him for the last time.  
  
"Lucius!" Narcissa said with a start, realizing what he was about to do. "Ten months without her, Lucius," she tried to persuade him to put his wand back into its holster.  
  
"Ten months, forever. Ten months, forever," he debated his options, enjoying the terror-stricken look on his daughter's face.  
  
Seeing that her husband was serious in his own personal argument, she knit her pale brows. Watching Lucius murder his own daughter had not been part of the game plan when they set out to the station, and Narcissa took on a one-man petition against it.  
  
"A compromise seems to be in order, yes?" she said, doubting she'd ever stood up to her husband, and internally shivering and shaking in her ivory skin.  
  
"A...compromise? I see no reason for their to be any negotiations in this matter, Narcissa," Lucius said as he whipped out his hornbeam wand. 16 inches, dragon heartstring encased in the rich colored wood.   
  
"Father! Not here!" Draco seemed to be the only one who cared about, or for that matter, even noticed the muggle passersby staring at the seemingly normal family of four. Owls and large trunks they could tolerate. Talk of a non-existant Platform 9¾? They'd turn the other way. But wielding a wand? Not even the most oblivous Muggles could ignore that. And, looking around at them, it was obvious they were planning on staying for the festivities.  
  
"What's wrong, Draco? Are you afraid to see your beloved sister blown to pieces?"   
  
"No, its just that the people that have stopped to watch us might find it a bit unnerving."  
  
"We'll just tell them its part of a magic show, and that she'll reappear at dusk. They'll believe anything they hear," Lucius said, grinning like the soon-to-be-felon he was.  
  
"Please, don't do this!" Narcissa intervened once again, quivering from the anticipation of an unforgivable curse thrown her way.  
  
"Are you going soft on me? You want to save this worthless piece of riffraff?"  
"It's not the time or place, Lucius. I don't care how many connections you have in the Ministry, butchering Calliopoea won't be waved off like...everything else has," she said, careful not to say exactly what that other stuff was in earshot of her children.  
  
"Would you testify against me, Narcissa? Draco? Would you?"  
  
"How about," his wife proposed, knowing that once Lucius pulled the 'you're coming down with me' card, it had gone far enough. "How about you leave her be? Let her alone, as long as she doesn't speak a single word from here to the train."  
  
Callie nodded emphatically, afraid to open her mouth even let out the nervous hiccups that had begun churning inside of her.  
  
"However, if you utter so much as a whisper, I will take action, and I can't be held responsible for what happens, is that clear?" Lucius said, hoping that she'd open her mouth and tell him that yes, in fact, it was clear. However, her stupidity must have malfunctioned temporarily, and she knew to keep quiet.  
  
They marched on with a reasonably quieter pace. When Grover started squawking again, Lucius shut him up with a few forceful bangs on the wire cage. The wimpy little owl was scared into a state of near shock, and that was that.  
  
*************  
  
Several minutes later, the Malfoys had crossed through the seemingly impenetrable brick wall between platforms nine and ten. Draco soon caught up with his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, and within seconds Callie was standing alone with her parents in an awkward silence.  
  
"Well, I see no need to remain here, dawdling like a pair of lummoxes," Lucius said, eager to rid himself of the little girl standing in front of him. "Tell your brother to have a nice term. And try to remember, would you?"  
  
Callie nodded silently, still not ready to risk opening her mouth.  
  
"These goin' on the train?" A scruffy young man approached the happy family and pointed to the trunk and owl cage.  
  
Callie nodded a "yes" once again.  
  
"Whatsa matta? You can' talk?"  
  
"Yes, she can talk. Calliopoea, please answer the gentleman," Lucius said.  
  
"Yes, please. Thank you."  
  
After he walked away, toting her baggage behind him. Pulling out their wands, Lucius and Narcissa were about to disapparate before he opened his mouth one more time.  
  
"Remember, you're representing the Malfoy name. Several generations of Malfoys have passed through Slytherin with top marks and prestige. Thank goodness we have Draco, otherwise our string of success would have ended there. I know it won't be easy, but try to trick everyone into thinking you have a bit of common sense and intellegence."  
  
Callie grunted, and in the nanosecond it took for her to blink both her eyes, they were gone. She hastily stepped into the nearest train car, and was faced with a tight square box filled to the very tiniest nook.  
  
She moved from car to car, and met the same predicament in each one. However, when she reached the final car, she found that only three students occupied the seats. She knocked on the sliding door, and they all looked up.  
  
"Do you mind? This is the only car there is room left to breathe in," she said, being uncharacteristically forward.  
  
"Um, ok," a young boy with brown hair voiced.   
  
"You're a first year," the only other female in the car stated rather than questioned. looking at the newest entrant and trying to figure out why she looked so familiar.  
  
"How'd you know?"   
  
"I know everyone, and I've never seen you before," the girl said matter-of-factly. "My name Hermione Granger. You are..."  
  
"Callie."  
  
"You don't have a last name?" the final occupant in the room finally spoke up with a voice laced with peanut butter. With flashing red hair and a broad smile. He was chomping away on a sandwich, and a dab of it was smeared on the left side of his lower lip.  
  
"Do I have to answer that question?" she asked, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. The rest of her family might be proud of the recognition the name Malfoy received, but she certainly wasn't.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" the redhead asked, genuinely confused with the cryptic response. "I'm Ron Weasley, by the way. That's Harry Potter, sitting over there with the gigantic scar on his head."  
  
"Nice to meet you all. What year are you in?" she asked.  
  
"Did you hear me? I said that was Harry Potter sitting over there. Big scar. Don't you know who he is?" Ron said, amazed that she had shown no change in expression at the news.  
  
"Thank you for the reminder, and yes, I know who Harry Potter is. I'm not a Muggle, and I haven't been living under a rock."  
  
"We're fifth years," Harry chimed in, embarrassed at the conversation that was unfolding. "Care for a Pumpkin Pastie?"  
  
*************  
  
Several hours later, the four witches and wizards had changed into their robes, and were talking amiably and enjoying a ruthless game of Exploding Snap. Laying in a haphazard pile nearby, a plethora of plastic sweet wrappers colored the otherwise muted flooring. Deeply absorbed in the cards, no one noticed the air suddenly fill with a sense of arrogance.  
  
"Ah, Potter, what a nice surprise," Draco said as he helped himself to one of the remaining Chocolate Frogs. He turned the packaging around to see which Wizard Card he'd gotten. "Dumbledore, what a sap."  
  
"Shut up, Malfoy, and get out of our car," Hermione said. She'd had her fill of Draco for the year, and it had only been a minute.  
  
"No, I think I'll stay here for awhile. Nothing like a train ride to catch up with old friends, right Weasley?"  
  
"Exactly, which is why you should go find a train car that actually wants to be graced by your presence," Ron retorted.  
  
"That's going to be pretty hard. Who'd want to?" Harry asked, smiling.  
  
"Well, I heard that St. Mungo's has got a bunch of amnesiacs on a train a few miles off. Maybe you can convince them to worship you," Ron said.  
  
"We certainly won't," Callie said, and for the first time Draco was forced to acknowledge her presence.  
  
"I see you've met my sister then, have you?"  
  
Almost as if Draco had suddenly become a marionette master, Ron, Harry and Hermione simultaneously dropped their jaws. Looking at Callie, then at Draco, and then shifting their gaze once again to Callie, they sat in stunned silence.  
  
"Never mentioned you had a sister, Malfoy," Harry said, breaking the interminable lull.  
  
"Mentioning her would have meant she deserved recognition. No, my sister is a good-for-nothing lowlife who has spent the first eleven years of her life disgracing her name at every possible opportunity," Draco spat out, hatred an obvious addition to his tone of voice.  
  
"Disgracing your name? Lets play a little word association, shall we? Ron, what is the first word that comes to your head when you think of the name Malfoy?" Hermione said.  
  
"Manipulative," he suggested.  
  
"Domineering," Harry added.  
  
"Psychotic, loathsome, wretched and conceited come to mind as well," Hermione said, rattling the words off her tongue.  
  
"Watch it, mudblood, I know spells and charms that would make your hair curl. That is, more than it already has. Hmm, is that even possible?"  
  
At that point, one of the conductors poked her head into the car. "Time to go, dearies," she said in that 'caring grandma' tone of voice.  
  
With more glares flashed then a room filled with Death Eaters and Dumbledore groupies, the five students exited the train car and scattered in different directions to seek their belongings. 


	3. Extra Blush Not Necessary

Seeing Red  
  
Author: Doublemint Mystique  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Summary: Calliopoea Malfoy is to her family as Harry is to the Dursleys. So what will they think when she is sorted into Gryffindor and develops a crush on Ron?  
  
Pairing: none as of yet  
  
Comments/Feedback/ETC: celticrockstar@bolt.com  
  
Disclaimer: I own the story and...that's it. J.K. Rowling owns everything else.  
  
Extra Blush Not Necessary  
  
Before Callie and the trio managed to part ways, Ron's foot somehow got caught up in Callie's robes. Tangled in a mass of black fabric, the pair tumbled and hit the hard stone floor with a hollow thud. Flushing furiously, Ron grunted a hasty apology, and without another word, he stood and walked away.  
  
"He's sorry," Harry said, picking up the slack that his friend left behind.   
  
  
  
"He does that all the time, really," Hermione added, stifling a giggle as she watched Ron nearly break into a run a few paces ahead of them.  
  
"Well, tell him its ok," Callie answered, a bit red herself. Her nose had nearly touched Ron's as they fell, and she found herself liking the way his fiery hair matched his brown freckles.  
  
"Firs' years, step in time!" a voice announced, and Callie turned to find an enormous man standing amidst the throng of students.  
  
"Who's that," she asked, looking up in awe at the burly giant.  
  
"Hagrid, the gamekeeper," Hermione replied, a bit curtly. "He takes all the first years across the lake."  
  
"Then it's best I go join him, I guess," Callie responded, and after saying her goodbyes, left Harry and Hermione behind.  
  
"Shall we go find Ron now?" Harry asked his friend, and the two went off in search of a red head of hair.  
  
*************  
  
When they had caught up with Ron, the trio found themselves in the great mush of students waiting for carriages. They stood in a huddle, discussing the latest bit of news they had acquired. Since when did Malfoy have a sister? Since eleven years ago, they could assume, but the question that proved to be more pertinent was: why was she nice to them?  
  
"She seemed decent," Ron said. "And did you see the look she gave him? Very sharp daggers were shooting from those eyes."   
  
"Hmmph, I don't know, Ron. Draco was awfully friendly to Harry too, remember?" Hermione said. "She is a Malfoy, you can't discount that."  
  
"My, you're a cheery optimist, aren't you? That's Hermione, always looking for the best in people," Ron quipped.  
  
"She was quick to stand up for that big headed Gilderoy Lockhart," Harry said, glancing sideways to see Hermione's face turn a slight shade of rosy pink.  
  
"Yes, and look how that whole mess turned out," she said with a huff, recalling all too well that the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher that she had been so smitten with had in all actuality been a full blown narcissist. "What if she's under some sort of dark spell, and she's really just a spy for Vol--you know who?"  
  
"Ok, Hermione, time to turn down the paranoia a notch," Ron said, as both he and Harry laughed simultaneously at their friend's bizarre hypothesis. "No one is out to get us," he continued, and then looked at Harry. "At least, no one is out to get you or me..."  
  
They looked to continue the conversation, but the new Head Boy and Girl were pushing them further into the horde of people. They were separated temporarily, and instead, Harry found himself standing beside Cho Chang. Cho, a friendly and very pretty girl, played on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, and was a mighty good Seeker at that.   
  
  
  
"Hello, Cho," he said, blushing slightly and trying unsuccessfully to turn his body to face her. It was proving to be a bit difficult in such a cramped space.  
  
  
  
"Hello, Harry," she responded, and a small crack could be heard as she twisted her neck to look at him.  
  
"How were your summer holidays?" he stammered just a little, and hoped that she wouldn't notice.  
  
"Very nice, and yours?" she answered cordially. The two were pushed forward in the crowd as a group ascended into the carriages and the remaining students were left to fill in the gaps.  
  
"A bit more enjoyable than the last few," he admitted, wondering if Cho would care to know why. Deciding that if she didn't, she would be courteous enough not to simply walk away (the fact that it was physically impossible to do so was another positive), pushed Harry to follow up his statement with, "I spent the holiday with the Weasleys, and when Fred and George found out that they hadn't been made Head Boy, they had a gigantic party..."  
  
"Oh!" Cho interrupted him, grabbing something from the pocket she'd had sewn into her cloak. Her hand emerged with a shiny Prefect badge, and fastening it onto her garments, she said to Harry, "Thanks for reminding me!"  
  
"Congratulations," he said, and shuffled forward as the mass condensed further. They were very near to the carriages at this point, and found themselves pushed into two separate, smaller groups. "See you around," he finished, but looked and saw that she had already turned her head in the other direction.  
  
He stepped into the carriage directly in front of him, and saw that Ron and Hermione had saved him a seat, having already stepped into the compartment.  
  
"Betcha missed her over holiday, didn't you Harry?" Ron said with a chuckle, following his friend's gaze over out the window to the other nearby carriages.  
  
"Put a sock in it, Ron," Harry answered, playfully punching the redhead lightly on his right arm. "I saw your face after you tripped Callie," he said, pulling a false accusation out of the air. The bluff seemed to work.  
  
"WHAT!?!" Ron raised his voice slightly in his defense, unable to believe what he had just heard. Making eyes at a first year? It was unthinkable!  
  
*************  
  
"Now, mind your step as you get into the boats," Hagrid's voice boomed as its echo emcompassed all the first years and the grounds beyond. Cautiously, the lot of them formed groups of five and found available boats.   
  
Callie stood by herself, looking for a foursome to tag along with. She finally encountered a bumbling group of spry young boys, looking up from their boat with blank looks on their faces.  
  
"Can I join you?" she asked, a bit afraid that they might answer with a 'no'.  
  
  
  
"Uh, sure," one of the boys answered, not entirely paying attention to who he was speaking to.  
  
As she put one of her feet into the boat, one of the other boys in her group pushed off the shore, and she lost her balance, falling with a flop into the chilly lake water.  
  
"Mr. Montague, the boats don't need your help!" Hagrid yelled, as he stopped all the paddles in mid-row. "Are you alright, Miss Malfoy?"   
  
"I guess," she replied, clambering back into her boat, downright soaked from head to toe. Shivering jaggedly, she shook off any laughs she heard from the boys in her boat. She scrounged up the last of her courage and asked the head of the bunch, "You knew they were charmed, didn't you?", but she was met only with a snigger.  
  
The rest of the short ride was uneventful, and before Callie could even notice that those few minutes had passed, she found herself crossing through the massive doors into Hogwarts.  
  
Before she could get a glimpse of anything but the suits of armor flanking the entrance, the lot of first years were ushered into a small room to the left of the doors. They stood alone in silence for a few moments, muggleborns and purebloods alike. However, those two groups were separated by the shrieks of surprise from those new to magic when Professor McGonagall apparated near the door.  
  
Not wasting words, the Professor skipped even the simplest introduction, and started her announcement with:  
  
"In a few moments, you will enter the Great Hall, and be sorted into your houses. If you will all wait in the main corridor, the doors to the Hall will open automatically when it is time for you to make your way to the head of the hall," Professor McGonagall announced the the group of first years that were standing in smaller cliques in the foyer. At the end of her speech, she disapparated, and they were alone once again.  
  
The students returned to the gigantic foyer, and prepared to file into the Great Hall. Pacing with trepidation and clammy hands, Callie yelped with astonishment as the double doors of the Hall buckled and groaned, opening to reveal hundreds of students inside. Walking between the two central tables, the first years saw a myriad of greens, yellows, reds, and golds as the moved closer to the Head Table.  
  
Once the forty young boys and girls filed into a straight line, Callie grumbled when she found that she was standing at the head of the Slytherin table, just a few feet away from her brother and his idiotic sidekicks. But before she could exchange words with him and get herself into a bit of trouble, a stange looking hat perched on a stool started to sing.  
  
After the song was over, Professor McGonagall moved to stand beside the stool. She unrolled a piece of parchment, and read the first name off the list.  
  
"Jezebel Brutus," she said, and almost as soon as the tattered hat was put on her head, the word "Slytherin" erupted from its folds. Jezebel's face because distorted into a sordid grin, and she gleefully hopped off the stool, brushed past Callie, and sat down at the Slytherin table.  
  
The names went on, and on, and on. Twins Patrick and Kevin MacNeel were both sorted into Hufflepuff, and then...  
  
"Calliopoea Malfoy," McGonagall announced, and in a blur Callie found herself sitting atop the wobbly stool. Still a bit wet from her quick dip into the lake, she sat shivering as the hat was plopped on top of her head.  
  
From their seats, Ron and Harry could see the spastic shivers coming from her small frame.  
  
"Poor kid," Ron said, feeling genuine sympathy for the chilly girl. He remembered the feeling of having several hundred students staring him down. And he wasn't shaking like a lunatic. Well, maybe a little...  
  
"Yeah, you'd think someone might have used the Drought Charm to fix her up or something," Harry added.  
  
  
  
That got Ron thinking, and even though he knew it was such a dangerous pastime, the wheels continued to churn his head. Slowly and quietly taking his wand out of his robes, he whispered ever so slightly, "Aquatious Reducio", and pointed his wand toward Callie, hoping to hit her pointblank.  
  
Still sitting on the stool with the sorting hat atop her head, Callie felt a sudden warmth as the stubborn water droplets that wouldn't go away finally disappeared. It was then that she heard the hat start to talk, and she had a funny feeling that she was the only one that could hear it.  
  
"Hmm, another Malfoy, eh?" the hat said, its voice throaty but a bit on the scratchy side. "Funny, you don't seem to be Slytherin material..." he trailed off, pondering this obvious bit of proven fact.  
  
"Excellent deduction, Watson," she said inside her head, but apparently the hat is the end all to beat all, and could hear her thoughts as well.  
  
"You've got spunk, that is clear, and intellegence also," the hat continued, and finally reached its verdict. He bellowed the word, "Gryffindor!" and the table to the far left of the hall erupted in cheers.  
  
  
  
She hopped down with a bounce, and glanced over at the Gryffindor table. She saw Harry and Ron grinning at her, and Hermione looking a bit skeptic. She strode with confidence over to the table, and plopped down across from the trio. "Whew, I'm glad that's over, she said.  
  
She sat in a euphoric state of silence through the rest of the ceremony. Tula Zionica became a Gryffindor as well, and with that, the tables filled with piles of delectable food. Grinning madly at her brother, she could practically hear him dictating a letter to Father.   
  
  
  
"Father, Callie is a Gryffindor. Shall I kill her now or later? Send an owl. Sincerely, Draco." 


End file.
